


Dance Lessons

by joufancyhuh



Series: To Know A Vael [1]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen, Pre-twins, family times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-20 05:16:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20669921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joufancyhuh/pseuds/joufancyhuh
Summary: Everyone knows that Hawke can't dance, but no one knows of the one time she could.





	Dance Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea for awhile. Kalea can't dance and she has such a special relationship with her dad and I wanted to show it off.

Sunlight streams in through the small window, illuminating swirling dust motes and the back of Papa’s head as he raps his knuckles against the wood grain of the family table in an ill-timed rhythm. The corner of his eyes crinkle with his smile when he catches his tiny daughter peeking around Mama’s legs at him, her heart full at having him home for a change. 

Mama lets out a sharp “Ouch!”, her grip on Kalea’s wrist tightening as she jerks her up and off her toes. “Pay attention,” Mama scolds, throwing a hard glare over her shoulder to Papa’s now sheepish smile. “Really, you two. Stop distracting her, Mal.” 

Papa rises to his feet, arms open as he folds Mama into a big hug. Kalea squirms with jealousy between them, wanting her own hug from Papa. He gives the best ones, so large and warm, and sometimes he picks her up and lets her head rest on his shoulder. They last forever, not like Mama’s quick and bony rare hugs. 

“Come on now, Lee,” Papa chides. “Is dancing really such an important thing for her to learn?” 

Mama’s face screws tight, the way she does when she holds her tongue because she knows the words inside hurt. Kalea recognizes it when she asks what Mama calls the hard questions, like about food or why they need to move so much or why she can’t play with the other children in town. But Papa came home early today, with fresh baked bread that sits abandoned on the table to another of Mama’s lessons. 

When Mama doesn’t respond, Papa’s smile fades, a dark shadow passing over the fading sun in his eyes. “Fine, I’ll teach her then.” Something undefined passes between the two, but then Papa sweeps Kalea up and settles her stockinged feet over top of his scuffed shoes. His smile reblooms with large brown eyes staring up at him, more than a little confused. He boops her nose before taking one of her hands in his. “Hard to step on my feet when you’re already on them,” he teases, his grin widening, and tosses her a wink. 

Kalea giggles and holds tight to one of his legs, trying her best to stay on when he begins to make big, sweeping steps across their kitchen floor. Mama rolls her eyes as she takes a seat at the table, but the slightest quirk of a smile shows. 


End file.
